


House of Damsels

by batmanisabanana



Category: One Direction
Genre: Alpha Harry, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Bottom Louis, Brothels, Classism, F/M, First Times, Innocent Louis, M/M, Mating Rituals, Omega Louis, Possesiveness & Jelousy, Prince Harry - Freeform, Prostitution, Royalty, Top Harry, Violence, medieval setting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-30
Packaged: 2019-06-15 19:09:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,017
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15419640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/batmanisabanana/pseuds/batmanisabanana
Summary: Harry moves towards the foot of the bed and removes his cape, sits with his ring-clad fingers pinching his chin lightly.His eyes scans the line of omegas in front of him; girls and boys, all alike in their naivety, yet in their eyes holds an underlying amount of knowledge that no person should harbour at such a young age. The line seems to be so long, as he takes his time drinking up the omegas in his sight. They are all the same.. so terribly the same.But as his gaze moves further still, a breakthrough.In the middle of chaos, stands between everyone else is a boy made of poetry. With eyes the shade of a haunting blue reminiscent to the complicated waves of the ocean. And the shadows beneath it; holds a dark, damp starlight. His face is pure and timidly raised, delicate features poised with innocent, parted pink lips.





	1. Chapter 1

  
**EVERYTHING** around them is so vividly incandescent. The chandelier that is shimmering atop their heads casting a soft ethereal glow against the exuberant furnishings inside London's most elite brothel. White curtains are flowing freely like a mane's hair as the wind slices itself in and out of the open windows. The floor carpeted with velvet whilst tapestries of red and gold are lined onto the walls, feathered with an opulent dust of glitter.

The sound of an omega's laughter is one of the most beautiful songs in this world. Though, inside this establishment; their music seems to be slightly dull, off-pitched, fake and filled with hollowed nothingness, yet in it's deception; births a different kind of enchantment.

"Still haven't found one you're interested in, my prince?" Zayn asks him, with a half-naked blonde clinging onto his arm. "No worries, my friend, they will be bringing out the virgins shortly."

There are but two kinds of Alpha's allowed into this fine establishment; wealthy merchants and those born of upper nobility. It is a well known fact that every desire a man could seek is made available here. But as emerald eyes searches for a companion for the night; there is naught but disappointment. Every omega he sees, though striking in their beauty, is cracked with lines of anguish, of scars, and tinged with loneliness. None of them has the purity he seeks that could incarnate his visions in vivid reception.

But, he hasn't seen those untouched yet.. so hope still bubbles in his chest, though clouded with impending resentment.

"Your Majesty," a girl with hair the colour of fire greets him, curtsying in a manner that makes it obvious that she is peasant-born. "We 'ave a room ready for ye sire, to take yer pick of our freshest cherries before we send 'em out."

Zayn scoffs in mock. "Special treatment,"

"Reserved only for special boys," Harry laughs back.

The girl leads him upstairs, where the sound of people engrossed in moments of passion can be heard throughout the hallway. The noises die down as they move farther into the shadows, and the only light conciliating the dark burns from dimly lit candles as they walk towards a heavy curtain, far from the others, and into a room almost as big as his own back in the palace.

As he enters, the first thing he notices is the smell that waifs about the air, the scent of lavender incense designed to distract an alpha's nostrils from the smell of an unmated omega.

In front of the bed are virgin omegas standing to a stillness. Their shoulders squared and their postures, though hinted with violent tentativeness, appears ready to be scrutinised.

They are formed in a straight line. All wearing a short white tunic that shows off their bodies in a frame that is both tempting and sweet.

"Pardon me, sire," His escort curtseys once again and leaves as soon as Harry nods his head in thanks.

Harry moves towards the foot of the bed and removes his cape, sits with his ring-clad fingers pinching his chin lightly.

His eyes scans the line of omegas in front of him; girls and boys, all alike in their naivety, yet in their eyes holds an underlying amount of knowledge that no person should harbour at such a young age. The line seems to be so long, as he takes his time drinking up the omegas in his sight. They are all _the same_.. so terribly the same.

But as his gaze moves further still, a _breakthrough_.

In the middle of chaos, stands between everyone else is a boy made of poetry. With eyes the shade of a haunting blue reminiscent to the complicated waves of the ocean. And the shadows beneath it; holds a dark, damp starlight. His face is pure and timidly raised, delicate features poised with innocent, parted pink lips.

This omega is made of infinity and holds the alpha’s fleeting vision. And as Harry rises up to take this beautiful boy's face in his hands; the longing spreads from the heat in his stomach through the knot hidden beneath his trousers.

Harry seizes the young omega's hand and presses it against his face, a feeling of sweetness overcoming his being as he basks on the feeling of his skin touching his.

The omega does not speak. Among them all he is the only one who has not bowed his head. His eyebrow furrowed and his eyes a bit startled. His hair is a bed of brunette silk, shiny and smooth to the touch.

"Will you stay with me tonight, omega?"

 


	2. Chapter 2

The omega in front of him stands with a straight back as his eyes look forward, not at Harry, but at the tapestry decorating the bed. His neck is poised, and the alpha prince can see the bob of his adam's apple as it moves nervously, swallowing on nothing at all.

"Look at me," Harry demands, though his tone is gentle, like the ripple of tides during summertime.

And the omega does. His appearance isn't as jaded as the others, and his face holds such beauty that Harry cannot believe that he is not of highborn blood. His jaw is sharp, yet on his face it appears softer still, and his eyelashes are curled upwards naturally, touching the fine hairs of his brows. Yet when his eyelids flutter and shut, they cast shadows on his cheekbones, and touches it with a sweep.

And as they level each other with a gaze, Harry almost cowers because in the omega's eyes holds something so intense; like an enemy to the sun. They pierce through Harry, leaving him winded and gasping for air.

But he must not show weakness. This omega must know his capabilities. So he hides behind his arrogance, and juts his chin up straighter.

"I assume you have a name," The prince says, approaching him with a lopsided grin. "Mine is Harry."

The omega is quiet for a second, lips parting and then closing, like he's not quite sure how to use his voice. But then, like a whisper to the wind, he tells him, "Louis.." a panic shows itself in the shake of his shoulders, before he composes himself and adds, "Your majesty,"

The alpha closes his eyes at the sound of his voice; high-pitched and melodic, making goosebumps appear and prickle onto his skin in desire.

"Louis," he repeats the name, then opens his eyes once again, and they're so close to each other, like a moment ago, only now they're alone, one small being against a mammoth of a man, yet in this room they almost seem to be equals. "You are so beautiful... All the jewels in the world cannot compare to your eyes alone."

Louis seems nervous, but he forces a shy smile to flash on his face. "Thank you, your—"

" _Harry_ ," the alpha insists, "You are to call me Harry, sweet omega."

He does not expect the furrow of brows he gets as a response, and in return Harry cocks his head to the side. "Something the matter, Louis?"

The fear in his body language is palpable. But after a moment, the omega seems to have gathered enough courage to reply, "Forgive me, master, but I am not sure that is allowed."

Harry smirks at this. "I am the prince. I say what is allowed and what is not."

The omega nods his head respectfully at this, and says, "Of course, your— _Harry_."

Harry smiles kindly. For a second the silence seems to swallow them up; as they fall prey to each other's presence. Louis is the one who breaks it, yet it all falls on Harry's blame, because the hitch of his breath is caused by the alpha's hands as it begins to seek the omega's skin. His palms gliding over Louis' shoulders, gently, then roves down his back, and stops at the lowest point of his waists. Just above the swell of his buttocks.

There's an insatiable kind of hunger building in the darkest pit of Harry's stomach, as the hot skin coupled with an eternal softness bleeds onto his hands, and it feels like he is holding a delicate bird, a small one, a rare one.

He tries to take a whiff of Louis' scent, but his nose only detects hints of it; a hint of daisy petals and a dash of lightning. Something unexplainable about it. How perfectly the two smells merge onto each other, violent rain fall and spotless sunshine.

But the smell of lavender in his nose prevails, and he growls at this, Louis cowering backwards a little. Harry grips his waists tighter, and his left hand spans the entirety of the small of Louis' back, as he pulls him into his person completely. Something protective about his hold.

He drops a kiss onto the silken head of hair, sniffing at his scent once again. Trying to satisfy his hunger for this omega, but it is for naught. Because only when he is _inside_ him, when he is allowed to _crawl into his skin_ will he be satisfied.

But.. he will not touch him. No, not now. Not here. Not where others have been in that wretched bed, where their scent may be mixed with those of filth. So Harry steps back, although apprehensively, although painfully.

The alpha prince sits down on the mattress, watching the confused expression that overtakes the young omega's face.

Yet if he cannot have a taste then he will have a glimpse. He will burn his image beneath his eyelids and at night when he is on his knees in prayer, _this omega_ will be the only thing he sees... and he will worship him.

_He. Will. Worship. Him._

"My sweet, pure angel, won't you undress for me?" Harry begs him, the words seems to be stuck in his throat and released in a pleading breath.

The young omega swallows, and his blue eyes become hidden for a moment, before he obeys. His shaking hands going for the clasp on his shoulders, and, slowly, so slowly - - _feather like_ , even. The tunic falls down to the floor.

Harry hisses a breath. And in his mind he thinks; that if he dies now - - _today_ , he will have known what heaven on earth is like. He will have seen an angel in the flesh.

Louis is covering his front, and Harry allows this. He will not force this omega into doing anything for him - - except _this_. For he must quench his thirst, if only a little.

"Gods, how can one person hold such beauty?" Harry exclaims, and he stands again, walking towards the omega. Stopping when he is but a foot away from him. He moves to his side, each step slow and deliberate; as he goes around him in a circle. Trying to see everything that the omega will allow him to see.

His skin is a smooth, ivory white, with a dash of golden from sunlight. He has the face of purity and yet his body can emit such sinful tragedies.

And before Harry can sully his unmarred flesh, he retreats back into a far corner. Trying to calm the knot growing beneath his trousers. And oh, it is perhaps the hardest thing he has had to do; harder than when he had first bid his goodbyes to his mother, his sister; and went off to war.

"You have my permission to dress once again. I will not blemish your beauty, not until I have your full consent. Your trust. Your love."

"But - - I am a _whore_ ," there's a cry in his voice, though tears are not present in the blue of his eyes. "I am yours to do with as you please."

Harry rushes towards him, takes his elfish face into his hands. "No, you are mistaken. I will be damned before I let you lose yourself in this hellish brothel."

The tears fall now, his eyelashes heavy with it. "This is where I live, your majesty.."

Harry shakes his head, and softly he responds, "You will be coming home with me."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the pace will slow down once louis’ in the palace.

**Author's Note:**

> tell me your thoughts on this! <3


End file.
